Does He Ever Get The Girl?
by Ice Princess3
Summary: "I've hidden a note, it's pressed between pages that you'll mark to find your way back. Does he ever get the girl?" Companion to Only One. This is Tristan and Rory's story.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Song lyrics are by Dashboard Confessional. 

A/N: This story takes place in the same time/universe as _Only One_. You know what happened with Jess and Lou but here's the story behind Tristan and Rory. Thank you again to all the reviewers from _Only One_. I hope you enjoy this as well.

Dedication: To **Priya** because she's a doll and fabulous with the encouragement! 

Does He Ever Get The Girl?

It was funny how the past could never really stay in the past. Things that happened months, years, minutes ago could come back to haunt you. Moments that at the time meant nothing can take on whole new meanings as the years go by. Things that start out as coincidence begin to form patterns and by the end of it all you have to wonder maybe there is such a thing as destiny. Is fate guiding the hand of the past, present and future? No matter what you believe coincidence or fate there's no denying the past—it's the past that leads to our future.

            "I can't find it anywhere!" Rory let out a frustrated groan as she tore apart her room.

            "What on earth are you looking for?" drawled her roommate Callie looking disdainfully at Rory's half of the room. It was a mess. Books strewn everywhere clothes tossed around and Rory in the middle of it all looking ready to kill—or at least maim.  

            Rory fought the urge to roll her eyes at her southern belle roommate. For the hundredth time she wished that her old roommate Sandy hadn't decided to study abroad this year because then they could have continued being roommates and she wouldn't be stuck with Scarlett O'Hara here. But she was stuck with her so she tried to make the best of it.

            "I'm looking for a book. I need it to do research for my English paper." Rory patiently explained.

            "Oh." Callie said as she paused filing her nails. "Can't you just go to library?" She would say just about anything to get her out of the room.

            "No I can't. I already own the book I need. And the other students in my class are probably looking for the same book."

            "Oh." Callie pouted for a moment and then shrugged. She had a date later, no time to worry about Rory's little problems. Hopefully Rory would be over her insanity by then but after meeting Rory's mother she doubted it.

            Rory proceeded to dig further under her bed to unearth another box of books. A lot of these were older ones she hadn't read in a long time. She began to sort through them and under _Moby Dick_ she found it.

            "Eureka!" she cried out holding the book up.

            Startled by the shout the nail file jerked and messed up her nice rounded curve on her ring finger. Damn Rory Gilmore.

            "Did you find the blasted book?" she growled as she went about repairing the damage that had been done.

            "Yep." Rory answered happily. "It was with all the other books I haven't really read since High School."

            "So what is this book you've been frantically searching for?"

            Rory held it up so Callie could see it. "_Savage Beauty: The Life of Edna St. Vincent Millay._" She read aloud.

            "Sounds like a yawn to me." Callie replied and promptly went back to her nail care.

            Rory rolled her eyes unless a book featured a bare-chested hero and lots of gratuitous sex scenes it didn't interest Callie. Rory shoved the boxes of books back to there original places and climbed up on her bed ready to begin her research.

            Opening the book she couldn't recall exactly when was the last time she had read it. Thinking back she was pretty sure it was near the end of sophomore year. Well that meant she definitely needed a refresher. But when she opened the book a piece of paper came falling out. She picked it up assuming it was old notes from a class but it wasn't notes—and it wasn't her handwriting. The paper read:

This ruined puzzle is beige with the pieces all face down  
so the placing goes slowly.  
The picture's of anything other than it's meant to be.  
But the hours they creep,  
the patterns repeat.  
Don't be concerned; you know I'll be fine on my own.  
I never said, "Don't go."  
  
I've written a note,  
it's pressed between pages that you've marked to find your way back.  
It says, "Does he ever get the girl?"  
But what if the pages stay pressed,   
the chapters unfinished,  
the storied too dull to unfold?  
Does he ever get the girl?

            Where on earth did this come from? And who was it from? Ror looked at the piece of paper dumbfounded. It wasn't Dean's writing, she knew that and it wasn't Jess's either. Anyway it would have been too early for Jess. If it wasn't either of them then who could it be?

*

            Tristan DuGrey threw his overflowing backpack on his messy bed and then collapsed on top of it all.

            "Rough Day?" his roommate Blake asked. 

            Tristan let a long-suffering groan be his answer. It had been one of those days. 

            Blake laughed and turned back to his textbook. He knew better than to bug DuGrey when he was on one of these moods. He would talk when he felt like it. 

            Tristan basked in the silence for a moment. He had gotten lucky with his roommate. He and Blake got along well freshman year and this year was no different. Blake knew when to keep his mouth shut and let Tristan stew. And today was one of those days. 

He was a business major at Yale following in his father's footsteps. But this semester his schedule had gotten messed up. He had accidentally gotten admitted into a 400 level business class, one that was meant for upper classman, and now the class he meant to take was full. So he had to quickly look into another class. It would have to be a Gen Ed. The woman at the Registration office had suggested a Lit class but he wasn't so sure. He liked literature but he wasn't sure how he'd fair in class. And he didn't want to jeopardize his GPA but the way things were looking he didn't have much of a choice. It was the only one that fit into his schedule and he couldn't afford to not take the credits. Lit 255 here I come, he thought.

*

            Callie was brushing her long red hair and pouting in the mirror. It was her usual predate routine. They were only two weeks into the fall semester and Rory was already familiar with this. Callie had been on more dates in the last two weeks than Rory had been on in her entire life. Granted Rory had only really been involved with Dean, Jess and then Michael last year. Rory wasn't a big dater, obviously Callie was. It seemed to be her minor. 

            Rory looked up from her book and out of curiosity asked. "So who is it tonight?"

            Callie looked over at her boring roommate and responded with a toss of her hair. "A fine-looking specimen I met at the Student Union."

            Rory laughed. "Does he have a name?"

            Callie wrinkled her nose. Sometimes Rory really missed the point. "It's Blake—I think."

            "You think?"

            "Honey, he's cute and charming plus he's paying. That's all I really need to know." 

            "I see." Rory replied but in reality she didn't. Dating a guy without knowing him held no appeal for her. She had never dated anyone she hadn't first been friends' with. The thought of going out with a stranger just filled her mind with scenes from the show _Blind Date_. And we all know that those shows never ended well. 

            Rory was relieved when Callie finally left for her date. It was hard studying with her in the room and Rory was sick of the library. Words she never thought would come out of her mouth, but it was true. The library was not always a quiet refuge. Sometimes it contained people just as loud and annoying as the roommate you were trying to escape. So Rory took advantage of her time and dug into her newfound book, but the note she had found the words that had been written upon it just wouldn't leave her mind. Who could have written it?

*

            Tristan DuGrey was inwardly slamming his head into the desk, he should have known better. He just got to his new Lit class and already the Professor had assigned a project. They had to pick an influential poet of the twentieth century and do a presentation on he or she. Now Tristan wasn't really into poetry so this presented a problem. He slumped in his seat in the back of the auditorium and resumed sulking. The professor began her lecture and Tristan began to take notes when the door swung open and a girl appeared. She was obviously late and winded from her effort of running across campus. He could see her blush from his seat. It was cute he couldn't remember the last time he had actually seen a girl blush. She looked vaguely familiar but the professor's droning voice quickly put the girl out of his mind. 

            Rory was so embarrassed she couldn't believe she was late to class. It had just been a bad morning. Callie hadn't gotten back into the room until 2 am and had woken Rory up. And then too make matters worse when she was fumbling around in the dark room Callie must have accidentally tripped over the cord that connected Rory's alarm clock. Because it wasn't on when she woke up today—fifteen minutes before her class started. Today sucked. She needed coffee. 

            Tristan walked out of class a headache already forming. This class while it wasn't too hard it was just out of his usual range of talents. That meant it was going to be a pain in the ass. He needed something to keep him sane until his next class so he headed over to the campus coffee shop. He was in line when he noticed the familiar girl getting her coffee; it was the late girl from class. He knew he had seen her somewhere before—he just couldn't place where. 

            Rory inhaled the coffee-goodness. She needed this. She had been so engrossed in the biography that she didn't get to sleep until 12:30 and then thanks to Callie she had a crappy morning. She muttered as the hot coffee burned her lip and as she turned to get a napkin she notice a vaguely familiar blonde boy, for a moment she thought it was Michael, but it wasn't. Still she knew that guy…

            Tristan stared at the brunette and was about to make his way over to her when a large object blocked his path.

            "Hey buddy." Blake said standing in front of Tristan with his own coffee in hand. 

            Tristan rolled his eyes and craned his neck around his large friend but by time Blake had caught on and moved the girl was gone. He chuckled. That was the story of his life. 

            "So how was your date last night?" Tristan asked and they resumed their usual mix of conversation and banter.

            "Oh man you should meet her. Hot little Southern Belle…"

*

            Rory was listening to music and coping her notes, a week later, when her roommate burst into her dorm. 

            "Rory darling. You've just got to help me."

            Rory couldn't resist rolling her eyes. Could she be any more Scarlett O'Hara? She should really be in the drama school…

            "Rory!" Callie exclaimed already getting impatient. 

            "Yes?"

            "I need you to do me a tiny little favor." She stated her accent becoming thicker with each word. "I'm going out again with Blake again and he's bringing his roommate for a double date. And Chelsea was supposed to come but she had this terrible accident with a curling iron and won't be leaving her room except to see her stylist. And all my other friends already have dates tonight. So that leaves…"

            "Me." Rory finished grimly. She really didn't owe Callie any favors. But the fact that Chelsea couldn't even work a curling iron without damaging herself made Rory grin and Callie took that as a yes.

            "Thanks darling. Be ready at eight and try to look presentable." Callie admonished as she sauntered out of the room. 

            "But—I—I didn't agree." Rory sputtered but it was too late. Her fate was sealed. 

*

So that's how Rory ended up at the smoky pool hall/bar. Waiting with her roommate for their dates to appear. Rory was getting more frustrated as the minutes passed; she had better things to do tonight. Life was complicated enough without boys, she learned that the hard way and she didn't care to repeat former mistakes. She looked at her watch and mentally gave herself ten more minutes before she passed on this whole blind date. 

            "There he is." Exclaimed Callie she was a little pissed too—no boy kept her waiting.  "You're late sugar." She said greeting him. Her voice laced with poisoned honey. 

            Blake shrugged and kissed her cheek in apology. "Sorry about that."

            Callie decided to let it go for now she could punish him later—in bed. She then turned to look at his roommate. She could hardly resist the temptation to lick her lips at the sight of him. Now this was one tasty morsel. Maybe she was sleeping with the wrong roommate. 

            "Hi." Blake said to Rory. "You must be Chelsea."

            Rory smiled and shook her head. "No. Chelsea was unable to make it. I'm Callie's roommate—"

            "Sugar you haven't introduced your charming companion." Callie interrupted.

            Tristan smirked he had seen her type a thousand times. Hell, he had _had_ her type a thousand times. Lots of fun in the beginning but those cats had claws and they used them when things didn't go their way. He didn't envy Blake at all. He looked over to his date and was stunned by who he saw. It was her. The girl who kept eluding him. 

            "Callie this is Tristan." Blake said and then turned again to Rory hoping Callie would get the point and remember her social graces and finally introduce the poor girl.

            Rory was staring at Tristan. The name sparked a memory but it was hazy. She knew him but how? It was on the tip of her tongue when Callie introduced her.

            "This is Rory—"

            The name clicked for Tristan and a flood of memories came back. "Gilmore." He said finishing Callie's introduction without even meaning to. 

            Her eyes flew to his and the memories that lay just beneath the veil were suddenly clear.

            "Well hello there Mr. DuGrey."

            "How ya doing Mary?" he smirked. His mystery girl was none other than Miss Rory Gilmore. How's that for irony? 

            "Let me guess. You two obviously know each other." Blake interjected.

            "Yeah." Tristan answered his eyes not leaving Rory's. "From way back." 

            "I didn't think I'd ever see you again." Rory said honestly. 

            Tristan shrugged and smiled wide. "Guess fate had other plans."

            "Who I am to argue with fate?" Rory asked grinning. This could prove to be an interesting night.

And in the background a song began to play, unnoticed by the two, and the line echoed: _Does he ever get the girl?___


End file.
